


Murdering Love

by Darth_Videtur



Series: Completely Unrelated Alternate Universes - A Compilation [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Determined!Anakin, M/M, Manipulative!Palpatine, Mutual Infatuation, Random AU oneshot, Song Fic for portions of Lana Del Rey's Serial Killer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-27 00:47:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7596784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darth_Videtur/pseuds/Darth_Videtur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A song fic based on portions of Lana Del Rey's song "Serial Killer." The lyrics seemed very fitting for this twisted relationship, so I had to write an AU oneshot. This one is completely unrelated to any of my other AU stories or series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Murdering Love

_Wish I may, wish I might_  
_Find my one true love tonight._

 

He had been looking for years, for the one who would help him to usher in the new age and complete his mastery of an empire that would last an eternity. But he never expected that the one he awaited would be looking for him as well.

“Chancellor,” Anakin Skywalker dips his head as he steps into the spacious chambers. Palpatine has never really noticed how tall his future apprentice really is. He has to look up when Anakin stops before him, and he’s not certain he likes the smoldering fire in those brilliant blue eyes.

  
_Do you think that he_  
_Could be you?_

 

“No, Anakin,” he tells the desperate boy leaning against him, still playing the role of a scandalized mentor. He’s not sure if he wants to keep playing this particular game or not. “This isn’t proper.”

“Fuck proper,” Anakin growls, pushing him harder to the wall, sliding his durasteel hand into the shimmersilk robes.

Palpatine closes his eyes and pretends that he planned this all along.

  
_If I pray really tight,_  
_Get into a fake bar fight,_  
_While I'm walking down_  
_The avenue._

 

He sees the anger and rage in Anakin’s eyes when the Jedi duo discover the frightened Chancellor shackled hand and foot to the chair, forced to watch his Republic under siege, and he adores it. 

He sees the aggressive terror in Anakin’s eyes when he battles Count Dooku on the Invisible Hand. And like the ship, Palpatine feels his throat close in an invisible grip when Anakin nearly slips to Dooku’s blade.

He sees the hidden, heated, hooded glance Anakin offers when the young Jedi promises that they will safely return, and the promise of that return makes him glad of the trouble he went to in this charade.

  
_If I lay really quiet,  
I know that what I do isn't right,_

 

He really should stop this madness before it goes too far, before it becomes… irreversible. But Anakin is lying against him, and his arms are tight bands that feel too good, and too wrong, and he can’t bring himself to push the young man away when Anakin wakes up and covers his thin mouth with outrageously full lips, demanding lips and delicious. He can’t bring himself to say a word, because Anakin is already saying everything that could be said, and he isn’t even talking.

  
_I can't stop what I_  
_Love to do._  
_So I murder love in the night,_  
_Watching them fall one by one they fight,_

 

He relishes the doom of the Jedi Order, even as Anakin’s eyes darken with every passing day, with every death of a Jedi Knight on some distant, forsaken planet. He loves the game, the endless destruction they have brought upon themselves. It’s everything he has waited for so patiently in the dark, like a spider feeling the vibrations of his web. Anakin is hurting, and he pushes the thought aside. Someday the boy will understand why all of this was necessary. He runs a trembling hand through the thick curls; the light is going out.

He welcomes the nightfall.

  
_Do you think you'll_  
_Love me too?_

Anakin licks the shell of his ear, and he shivers.

Anakin’s devotion makes him pause sometimes. Will Anakin still want to possess him when the truth is revealed? He supposes not; at the most a good apprentice will seek to overpower the master, not make love to him. He is surprised by the faint disappointment he feels at this revelation.

“What’s the matter, Chancellor?” Anakin rumbles over him.

“Nothing at all, Anakin,” he purrs and pulls the Jedi close for a kiss before the young man can press him for an answer.

Because he doesn’t trust himself to lie any more.

  
_Baby, I'm a sociopath,_  
_Sweet serial killer._  
_On the warpath,_  
_'Cause I love you_  
_Just a little too much._

 

They will all perish. They will all fall before him.

He does it all for power. Power and Anakin Skywalker. The boy is power walking on strong, tanned legs and smiling with perfect confidence. He finds himself craving that power, and Anakin is more than happy to tease him with the future. The Jedi plays on the edge of the Dark Side, and Palpatine is ready to go to war for his conflicted soul.

The time is coming when the Jedi Order will dissolve into tears and ashes, and his prize will lift the galaxy on dark shoulders. There is coming a time when the war will end. But for now, he clutches those dark shoulders as Anakin drives into him with nearly frantic possessiveness.

“I love you,” the young man whispers at last, collapsing over him, and Palpatine closes his eyes and sighs.  

The Jedi loves too much.

  
_I love you just_  
_A little too much._  
_You can see me_  
_Drinking cherry cola,_  
_Sweet serial killer._

 

Perhaps he has grown too accustomed to Anakin’s presence in his life, because he wakes up one morning – and how strange that he willingly sleeps now – and misses the warmth usually found at his side. He makes his way into the kitchen and finds the young Jedi already up and sipping caf. He slides past, draping a hand over the broad shoulders and reaching for the tea kettle.

When he settles into the chair next to Anakin, the Jedi Knight turns and watches him take a delicate drink.

The fire lights up those magnificent eyes, and the tea is forgotten in the searing heat.

  
_I left a love note,_  
_Said you know I love,_  
_The thrill of the rush._

He tells Anakin they shouldn’t be seeing each other anymore, that the situation has become “untenable.” Eventually people will begin to take notice, and where will they be then?

_He is taking notice, and he is drowning. Can’t Anakin see?_

Anakin rages and paces around the room and finally stops before him. “I don’t care what’s tenable or not,” he growls.

The tailored hesitation has pushed Anakin into the realm of the Dark Side, and the young man is completely in his power, and the rush he gets is greater than any physical response Anakin is coaxing from his body now.

He gasps at Anakin’s demanding touch.

He thrills to Anakin’s darkness.

  
_(You send me right to heaven),_  
_Sweet serial killer,_

_(I guess I'll see him over).  
Do it for the thrill of the rush,_

The Council has now asked Anakin to spy on him, and Anakin’s hate is tangible in the Force, and when Anakin explodes inside him with a rush of hot fluid, he comes too with a sharp ecstatic cry. The Dark Side spirals behind his eyes, visions blooming, and Anakin showers him with wet kisses and hard touches.

Chaos take it all. He wants this moment suspended in time. When Anakin hates, for _him_. The first of many.

  
_My black fire's burning bright,_  
_Maybe I'll go out tonight._  
_We can paint the town_  
_In blue._

 

The opera dazzles tonight, and Anakin is overcome with the sights and sounds, but he focuses with remarkable will on the topic at hand. Palpatine beckons him into the chair at his side.

Palpatine feels his power growing in this moment, and he knows the time is finally at hand.

“Did you ever hear the Tragedy of Darth Plagueis the Wise?”

  
_I'm so hot, I ignite,_  
_Dancing in the dark and I shine._

That evening is like nothing either of them have ever experienced before. Anakin’s frantic desperation has cooled into confident arrogance, and he plays with Palpatine ruthlessly, secure in his new knowledge of the Sith legends.

Palpatine wants to laugh, but instead he moans as Anakin turns him over and slides into him. They dance together in the slick hot darkness, all gasps and growls and complete domination.

He has ignited the furnace in Anakin’s heart.

He has ignited the endgame.

Anakin thrusts hard, and a single tear of undisguised delight drops unnoticed to the sheets.

  
_Like a light I'm_  
_Luring you._

“Use my knowledge, I beg you,” he says to that tortured face.

And Anakin knows he means it.

And he knows Anakin wants it.

 

 _Sneak up on you, really quiet,_  
_Whisper "Am I what your heart desires?"_  
_I could be your_  
_Ingenue._

 

“I can be your path to absolute power, Anakin,” he promises low and certain. “Isn’t that what you really want? To shape the galaxy in your name? To set everything right?”

Anakin shudders and pulls him closer. “I want things the way they used to be.”

“And what else would you like?” he asks, winding his arms around the powerful torso.

“You wouldn’t, wouldn’t understand,” Anakin stammers and looks away.

He lifts up and kisses the trembling full lips. “Then teach me,” he hisses into the warm mouth, already triumphant.

   
_Keep you safe and inspired,_  
_Baby, let your fantasies unwind._  
_We can do what you_  
_Want to do..._

Anakin is inherently selfish, Palpatine thinks. The Jedi Council never understood it, certainly never condoned it. They thought to train it out of him, which of course was doomed to failure.

Anakin will never be unselfish. Right now he is imaging a galaxy under his control. Palpatine can see the naked desire in the blue eyes that burn spun gold.

Anakin wants the galaxy. Anakin wants to be free of fear. Anakin will always want what he doesn’t have, and Palpatine indulges that passion.

He pulls away just long enough to get Anakin to do what he wants.

To turn his back on the Light forever.

  
_Baby, I'm a sociopath,_  
_Sweet serial killer._  
_On the warpath,_  
_'Cause I love you_  
_Just a little too much._

When his enemies are dead, scattered at his feet and burning and broken and gone, he dares a glance at Lord Vader. His hearts thumps painfully, deliciously in his chest. _All that I did, I did it for you. For us. For me._

There really isn’t a difference anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, what did you guys think? Yay or nay? xD


End file.
